The Lost Horsemen
by Lil Miss Morningstar
Summary: When Lloyd found himself falling to his death within the Tower of Salvation, he never would have imagined waking up alive before the frightening Charred Council. Instead of killing him, the Council offers him a deal: The power to have his revenge on Cruxis in exchange for finding their missing Horsemen. Now he sets off as War, the first of the new Riders. Warning: yaoi later on.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi everyone! I guess I've been missing for a while now, but I've been trying to get back into the game of things. And yeah, I know I have a few other stories running that I need to get back to, but this little baby has pretty much taken over my mind, lol. **

**Anyway, this will be my first crossover story, and apparently, also the first Tales of Symphonia/Darksiders story on ffnet. It never really donned on me when I played ToS back over ten years ago all the heavy references from old Norse mythology, but at some point between Disney and Marvel's Thor and Avengers movies, and both the Darksiders games did it suddenly hit me. 'Well hell, DS's Tree of Life is Symphonia's Great Kharlan Tree'. **

**Later on, after reading Aslynn's story Lostlight here on ffnet, the idea suddenly came to me, what if the Lloyd had to take over as the Red Rider, reform the horsemen and bring back to life the great tree? Much planning and scheming later on my part, I came up with this. *evil grin***

**I do hope I live up to the reputation of both games, because they really are dam good games with awesome stories, so I'm taking care into merging both universes as best as I can.**

**This story will take place mainly on Aselia (or Symphonia if you prefer), but there will be quite a few things that will change. Some of those changes are going to be very big. Can't exactly throw in four bad ass riders of the apocalypse and expect things to flow smoothly. But yes, I do have big plans for this. Things start off during the first visit to the Tower of Salvation after Colette released all of Sylvarant's seals. **

**Next up, the story will start with a T rating for now, but after a few chapters I do plan to bring it up to M. So there will be blood, violence, language and later on adult themes. I'll give out a warning before I up the rating. **

**And lastly, after much internal debate, I've decided on eventually turning this story into a Lloyd/Zelos adventure-romance. So yes folks, guy on guy romance, aka. Yaoi. It will take a while before those two start to interact greatly, but if this is not the type of thing you would like to read, fell free to hit the back button, either now or when the guys start having feelings for each other. **

**So, without anything further ado, here we go!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Darksiders nor Tales of Symphonia.

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><p><em>The Lost Horsemen.<em>

When Lloyd found himself falling to his death within the Tower of Salvation, the last thing he had imagined was to wake up, alive, before the frightening Charred Council. However, when the Council offers him a way to have his revenge on Cruxis, Lloyd finds himself agreeing. Now, he is charged with finding out what had happened to the Four Horsemen, who had disappeared during the Great Kharlan War, and reviving the Tree of Life.

But to do so, he cannot do it as a simple man. Instead he shall move forth under the mantle of War, Rider of the Red Horse.

The first of the new Horsemen.

* * *

><p>Far beyond all known dimensions, away from the realms of heaven and hell and all in-between, lay hidden one of the best kept secrets since Creation came to be. A realm of ash and fire, of smoke and brimstone, and far more ancient than all save for a small handful of worlds. And any ancient world was bound to house ancient beings. Ancient and powerful beings. And in this case, some <em>very<em> powerful beings.

After all, who could match the power of the Charred Council? The very beings that enforced an uneasy balance between the forces of light and dark, good and evil, heaven and hell.

But perhaps, what truly drove fear into the very souls of all realms were their enforcers. The fabled Four Horsemen.

Four Riders, birthed from the unholy union of angel and demon but imbued with magics so strong that it made them anew. Born Nephilim, but remade into some of the most fearsome of warriors to have ever existed. And their sole mission, their single purpose, was to enforce the balance.

And when all Four of the Horsemen rode together there was no stopping them.

Or so the legends went.

The tale of the mighty Horsemen had faded away after several millenniums. No sign had been seen of them, not in any realm, not even a single glimpse of a single horseman. And with their absence, trouble brewed.

Demons and angels, for all their differences, were so much alike in mind. With only silence coming from the Charred Council, each side grew evermore bold. What started as little scouting skirmishes here and there, steadily grew in size and destruction. They cared little for the inhabitants of whatever realm just so happened to be their current battleground –they were lesser beings after all– so when no horsemen came to put a stop, both sides gave it their all.

And with the mysterious disappearance of the Horsemen, so too faded away the fear of the Charred Council.

However, in the deepest reaches of this single, hidden away realm, the Charred Council still stood.

Three mountains of hardened stone stood above a never ending sea of molten lava. Their jagged peaks and hollowed out crevices gave them the appearance of giant heads with two eyes and mouth. Yet no life shinned through these beings, instead, swirling vortexes of powerful magic and fire could be seen in each one. A few differences could be found between them, but in the grand scheme of things it was irrelevant.

And there they stood, the same way they had since the dawn of time. Deep within the core of their world, in a cavern so large that entire cities could have easily fit within, they stood in a slight semi-circle before a small platform just high enough so that what few visitors did come did not get killed off by the lava that shook and flared up with each word spoken by the ageless beings.

"**Enough! We cannot continue as we are!"** Shouted one of the effigies creating a deep earthquake that shook the whole realm.

"**And yet we can do nothing!"** Roared back a different one. **"Not since the dawn of time, not even after the Endwar, have we become so powerless!" **

"**All four of the horsemen are dead."** The last one groaned in distaste. **"Nearly all of our powers gone with them. And here we sit shouting at each other for an eternity."**

"**Not quite."** The first one quickly cut in. **"Their souls never passed through the Well. They must remain there, on that dammed world. The Well's guardian still seeks them out, even after his exile from the Heavens. If even only one rider had arrived at the Well of Souls, he would have known."**

All three ancients grumbled in various tones. This day had turned out no different than what had occurred for several thousand years, since the sudden disappearance of their chosen enforcers.

"**We should not have waited for so long to send them."** Chided the leftmost ancient. **"Too long did we wait. Our hopes that their war would run its course and resolve itself were ill placed."**

"**No, we allowed their magic and technology to become far too strong. We underestimated the power they had gained, and with it, they destroyed the roots of the Tree of Life. Severing that world from all other dimensions, stranding the horsemen there and cutting off most of our power all at once."** Corrected the center effigy.

"**At least we have located the planet once more. Yet it will do us no difference at our current power."** Grumbled the first of the three. **"We have no way to see what goes on in that world, or to find out what fate befell the Horsemen." **

A small silence was shared between the three while the whole cavern around them trembled with all the contained ire they barely held within. Once the echoes of the earthquake faded away, the first of the effigies spoke up.

"**If not for the fact that our powers were lost along with them, it would have been a simple effort to simply replace them. They were growing too complacent in their role, defying our orders frequently and doing things their own way. Almost as if thinking that they were **_**above**_** us." **

"**Doable yes. But not precisely **_**easy**_**."** Replied the leftmost ancient. **"The Nephilim were quite peculiar in that regard. As sturdy as some of the best that heaven and hell had to offer, but with no love for either side. An ideal quality for those that would be doing our bidding in keeping the Balance. Now however, our options are limited. The angels and the demons are out of the question, most of the Old Ones would not bow before us anymore, and the humans are far too frail. Should we choose poorly, we will lose even more standing among the sentient races." **

"**Not to mention, there will still be the problem about sending a new Horseman to Aselia. With the Tree of Life no longer reaching out to it, it is currently impossible for us to even send a Watcher, much less a Horseman. We remain unable to open a stable enough portal to that world." **Added the center monolith.

"**True enough. In our last attempt we lost more than a dozen watchers. And what we could retrieve of them was little more than mutilated body parts. We cannot risk the same fate on a Horseman. And throwing even more Watchers at this will only resolve in losing our hold on them. They too are becoming more and more reluctant to follow orders. Fearful of knowingly being sent to their deaths." **

"**Best not waste any more of them. They are more suited to keeping eyes on the warring battles scattered across the realms undetected than enduring unpredictable energies." **

"**Which brings us back to where we start." **The first most ancient released a plume of ash and smoke that could barely have passed as a sigh.** "We have no access to world, directly or indirectly. We would need to find someone who would be desperate enough for a sliver of power, that cares not for the heavens or the hells, and that we could have complete control over them. We cannot risk any kind of mutiny this time around."**

The other two silently agreed.

"**And where would be find this desperate soul?"**

Not even a split second after the words were heard resonating within the hell like cavern did all three ancients feel a rift within the dimensions. A small thing, barely able to be felt at all except by the most powerful of beings, yet it could prove to be just what the Council needed.

All three ancients stopped their squabbles and immediately turned their attentions outward, into a place that existed and did not exist at the same time. A place much like their own realm, hidden away between dimensions that was nearly unreachable…

And a place once occupied by a branch of the Tree of Life.

If the ancient stone monuments could have shown any kind of facial expression, they would have all been sharing equally nasty grins.

* * *

><p>It was all a lie.<p>

Everything. The whole journey, right from the very start.

There was no such thing as a Journey of Regeneration. All it was in reality was a long trip across the whole world, in order to speed up the process of killing a person's soul to leave behind a still living body so that the 'goddess' Martel could be revived.

The Chosen… the sacrificial lambs of the world— no, of both worlds. They were handpicked and raised to be tools. Offerings to Cruxis for borrowed time under which one of the two worlds would be able to flourish, while its twin, its shadow, would decay until the hourglass was flipped on its head and the pathway of all mana reversed.

And the horrible cycle would repeat itself over and over until Cruxis had what it wanted. A perfect vessel.

Until then, it was all a game to Cruxis. Humans were barely above the label of troublesome livestock, allowed to remain living for the sole purpose of breeding the perfect Chosen and to 'cultivate' exspheres from them. Half-elves rode under Cruxis' right hand branch, the Desians, and loved nothing more than to go raiding, pillaging and killing humans. Elves and dwarves? Who knew where they stood in the grand scheme of things.

If there was one single truth about the whole thing, then everything they knew, every single story about the great heroes from the Kharlan War, the goddess Martel, the angels, Cruxis, the Desians, and just about everything else than had happened the last 4000 or so years was nothing, but a complete _Bold. Faced. Lie._

Just a few scant hours ago, Lloyd too had been among the blissfully unaware of the harsh reality that made the very foundations of his world.

Sylvarant, twin sister to Tethe'alla, had been in a declining state for too long. Ravaged by drought, disasters and picked off by Desians, the world would have lasted perhaps another century before all life became unsustainable.

Naturally, this would have proven to be a wrench into Cruxis' grand scheme, so the big shots decided that the world needed a little… helping hand. They could not simply reverse the course of the mana flow themselves, or all of their laid out groundwork would go to waste. Humans were definitely much more controllable when they remained dumb and made to believe exactly what you wanted them to believe.

For all intents and purposes, they needed it to look like a Chosen had completed the journey, from start to finish, and then make sure that there were no lose ends left behind. And in particularly, to make sure that the real nature behind the Journey of Regeneration remained a secret.

This time however, they decided to go for overkill, since those pesky Renegades were proving to be more and more of a thorn at their sides. Just enough to be bothersome, but not enough of a threat to divert precious resources or mount a full scale man hunt for them. So instead they sent just one person, to infiltrate the current Chosen's group and pose as a bodyguard.

That single person just happened to be the only human among the four Seraphim, the Leaders and Lords of Cruxis.

Kratos. That two-faced, double crossing, sonuvabitch and overall asshole. The bastard had managed to get himself hired as the Chosen's main bodyguard after posing as a wandering mercenary with good skills (and a pretty face to boot). Necessity had overridden caution at the time, but back then, on the very steps of the chapel where the Chosen was to receive the Oracle, the priests had proved to be no match to Renegades posing as Desians. It was however, perfect timing for Kratos to situate himself.

Not long after, the small village of Iselia had emptied out its coffers to pay the _handsome_ mercenary's fee, and get everything else situated. The next day the Journey of Regeneration had begun.

The plan however did have a few hiccups along the way. Lloyd and Genis originally were not meant to tag along with the group, but after Forcystus and his Desians attacked the small village, the boys suddenly found themselves exiled and with nowhere else to go. Later, a day into the scorching hot sands of the Triet desert, the boys were captured by what looked like Desians, but where actually Renegades (not that they knew at the time). Genis was released because he was distant kin, but Lloyd was not so lucky. Instead, the brunet had to be rescued by Kratos, Colette and Raine, whom Genis had somehow managed to find and direct them back to the base.

A bit reluctantly at first, but from that point forward, the motley group of five traveled from town to town, in search of the fabled seals to offer their prayers and awaken the spirits within.

On the road, they encountered even more difficult challenges. First the troubles at Palmacosta, where the governor had all but sold the whole city to the Desians for a cure that did not exist. Then Asgard, and the wind monster that terrorized them. Then Luin… the city that had been burnt to the ground by Kvar and his Desians.

There, among the smothering remains of the once vibrant town that could have rivaled Palmacosta, they found Sheena. They had encountered the woman a few times before, where she had made attempt after attempt on Colette's life, but failed each and every time. Usually due to her own clumsiness. However, after Kvar's attack on Luin, the once clumsy assassin became their ally and together they managed to put a stop to the mad man's schemes.

That was also were they learned the disgusting origin behind exspheres.

None the less, with two Desian Ranches completely wiped off the map of the world, the group continued on. It wasn't until they reached the fourth and final seal did things become grave once more, and where Sheena revealed the reason as to why she had been trying to kill Colette before their encounter at Luin.

Two worlds, two sides of the same coin, vying for a limited amount of mana. Sylvarant and Tethe'alla. Sheena hailed the later world, which had sent her to assassinate Sylvarant's chosen in order for Tethe'alla to remain in full bloom. But after seeing the condition of the dying world, her will had faltered, and she could no longer carry out her direct order. This world was in dire needs, and who knew just what would happen to Tethe'alla if it finished absorbing all of its sister's mana.

They made a truce then. Sheena agreed to help Colette to finish unlocking the seals, buying time until they could get their much needed answers.

They did not know what awaited them.

At each seal, a little bit more of Colette died, even if she did gain angelic powers in exchange for losing more and more of her humanity. First her hunger, then the need for sleep, then she no longer felt pain… then she could no longer speak…

Now, she was little more than an empty puppet, floating in place within the cursed halls of the fabled Tower of Salvation. Her soul and humanity snatched away by another backstabbing bastard, the angel Remiel, whom had lured the girl from seal to seal with honeyed words about how proud he was of his 'daughter'.

At least that bastard was not going to go around taking any more little girls away from home to kill off and offer to his upper bosses for the sake of a promotion.

But that left a second, even bigger bastard to deal with. Kratos.

After letting Remiel bleed out on the translucent glass floor within the Tower, the once mercenary, now Seraph had released what he truly was.

An A class asshole.

The man who Lloyd had come to view as somewhat of an older brother or stand offish uncle had been guiding them all to their deaths. The whole time, right from the very start. He was to kill them all and take Colette's body up to wherever Cruxis had their main base at. And when Remiel couldn't finish the job, he stepped up to the plate.

They fought. Deception, treason and desperation fueled their every move, but the angel proved to be more than a match. And yet somehow, the dwarven-raised dead last, the school teacher, the class genius and the clumsy ninja had by some miracle managed to overpower the Seraphim.

He had to have been holding back. Kratos had been almost intentionally making the very same mistakes he had been slapping Lloyd over the head time and time again in order for the younger swordsman to correct his stance. The angel had moved sluggishly, his arms jerking every now and then, and leaving plenty of openings. The almighty and perfectionist mercenary would never have done so, so why was the _Seraph_ doing it? Whatever powers he had been stowing away and hiding from the group should have augmented his abilities, not the other way around.

So they why?

What exactly was going on?

And yet, when Kratos finally laid on his hands and knees, his sword kicked away from who knows where, and his shield cast aside after being rent useless after assault after assault of steel, magics and seals. The man had barely been out of breath, and held no major injuries, when the group was about to move in for the kill when another angel appeared.

This one however, was no pushover. Yggdrassil, the Leader of Cruxis and the Desians, made short work out of the already worn out group.

Three spells from the white clad angel was all it took to render the group unable to fight. The siblings were unconscious from a single holy lance. Sheena had been blasted back into the altar just under where Colette had been floating safely out of everyone's reach, her body slumped over in a clearly uncomfortable position yet she could do nothing. Lloyd too had been blasted back, towards the entrance to the cursed Tower, sliding along the crystalline floors.

Barely was he able to lift his face just enough to see the golden haired mad man, his body succumbing to the pains and the strains of the recent fights. The Cruxis leader remained exactly where he had appeared, with that disgusting smile plastered on his face.

And then with a flick of a wrist, Lloyd felt a massive blast of light right in front of him. His already tired body could not do a single thing to brace for impact, and was sent flying once again.

His head and back exploded in pain with a bone crunching crack as he collided with one of the meticulously carved jade pillars that surrounded the platform. His vision turned white, then began to fade to red, becoming increasingly blurry and more and more dark spots began to dot his sight.

Barely did he manage to remain conscious as his body doubled over, gravity taking hold once again, pulling him off the platform and into the depths below. He barely felt when he crashed into one of the spiraling coffins that floated in place for eternity, destroying it and the fragile remains of the once Chosen.

Darkness embraced him long before he destroyed three more coffins in his descent and disappearing from view completely.

'_Colette… I failed you… I'm sorry…' _

He did not see the very same Renegades that had once captured him appear a split second later fighting off Yggdrassil and the once again standing Kratos before retreating with his friends, including Colette's lifeless form.

As the group retreated back to safety, the leader of the would-be rescuers was far from relieved._ 'Shit. Lord Yuan is not going to like this.'_

* * *

><p>'<em><strong>This child could very well be the answer to our troubles. A true fortune for us that we managed to grab his body before he plummeted into oblivion.<strong>__'_

'_**He is young and weak, but his soul is still anchored to Aselia. Should we send him back, he should be able to recover in full and carry out our orders… if we decide to keep him alive.**__'_

Three ancient monoliths whispered among themselves as they studied their current center of attention. For once, they were once again whispering to each other telepathically instead of vocally sharing their opinions. Even the vast cavern around them seemed to quiet down, for the ever present earthquakes had ceased in full and even the plumes of magma that once dotted the hidden realm had disappeared completely. Only gentle spires of smoke and soft echoes of living fire could be seen and heard.

What lay out before them, on the only piece of visible rock not submerged in part or in full by the sea of fire, other than the stone behemoths themselves was the body of a young man. A human. His once tanned skin was marred by injuries and bruises from battles, his clothing tattered and thorn in several places, revealing some of the more prominent injuries that the boy had sustained recently. The most concerning of which was the large gash in his back, where blood still flowed almost freely if not for what remained of the once thick leather jacket. Left unattended, this alone would have proven to be a fatal injury.

Not that the infamous Charred Council was about to let their possible ticket to recovering their lost power and status slip right through their grasp. Even though their magics would have been enough to patch up the boy before sending him off to a proper healer, they had agreed to assess the child of humanity before wasting their energies. Instead, they placed the injured brunnet into a state of artificial suspension. The boy would not wake as of yet, but neither would his injuries worsen for the time being.

It had been only through quick action that they had managed to catch the child in the first place. Whatever it was that happened to the boy, it ended up with him falling into a void between dimensions.

A void once occupied by the Tree of Life, where it once connected Aselia to every other realm in existence.

For now, all three ancients observed the boy, trying to gather as much intelligence as they could. Weighing out their options, and determining just what to do with him.

After a few hours of silent study, one of the ancients alerted its brethren to a certain finding.

'_**There is something peculiar about this boy. He is not quite human.'**_

'_**A halfbreed? No… this is—' **_

'_**Blood of an angel? No… not quite. Greatly watered down, but still holds some traces of angelic blood... How odd.' **_

'_**No you fools! Look deeper! Not at his body but at the very core of his soul.'**_

The effigies mentally snared at their sibling as they did as told. They extended their senses, reaching out into what areas no longer visible to even the most skilled of magic users and spell casters. Long passed the barriers of flesh and bone, and even the lifeblood that slowly coursed through his veins, did they find what they were looking for. Deep inside, at the spot where the soul was still bound to the body (even if barely) they saw something most odd.

Something that was not supposed to be there.

Something that actually belonged to the Council.

'_**He contains War's essence?! How can this be?!'**_ One of them all but roared in outrage to his fellow ancients, causing the surrounding cavern to come alive with fire and earthquakes.

'_**No, it is but a tiny fragment what he contains. Not even a shadow to what War held in his prime. Barely even a drop of water to the vastness of an ocean.' **_Another of the stone monoliths corrected.

'_**Indeed.' **_Agreed the last of the ancients after mulling over some thoughts. _**'An interesting scenario none the less. That which this boy contains is nowhere near enough to develop into any of War's abilities, but if he were to obtain the rest of War's powers…' **_

'… _**We would have to amplify that faint echo which he already contains for it to be of any real use. But if we did, then we could be almost certain that his body will accept and assimilate the remainder of War's power. Perhaps… his frail human body could grow strong enough to hold the entirety of the Red Rider's power and not disintegrate like some of our… earlier experiments.'**_

'_**A tiny human would have never been able to hold a Rider's powers without self-destructing sooner or later, or going completely mad. But this one… might just be able to do it.'**_ Pondered the center mountain.

'_**Indeed. And if we were to awaken that essence fragment, he should have little trouble finding the remainder of War's soul. His core would resonate to that of War's, and to a lesser degree to that of the other horsemen.' **_The leftmost offered to the rest.

They remained in silence for a few moments, each ancient contemplating just what this new development could bring. What began as an odd occurrence, a whim followed by little more than curiosity at that point, was becoming more and more akin to what the Council needed.

Not to mention that there was the added bonus, in which the child had somehow come into contact with War's soul. Or at least some fragment of it.

It almost was if they had found their candidate to begin replacing the unruly Horsemen.

But then again, there was always the possibility that this one could follow in his predecessor's steps and also grow defiant. Death had openly defied them on several occasions, particularity during the Abominations Incident, yet he was allowed to remain among the living only because his actions and judgment had stopped an even greater incident, and that for better or for worse, the remainder of the Abominations had been thrown into Oblivion, forever out of reach of everyone… even from the Council much to their ire. Strife had caused several problems due to his short temper and brash actions, often to the point where another of the riders would have to arrive and bail him out and repair the damage. Fury, the only female among the riders held the shortest list of offenses, where mostly her pride and temper had also gotten the better out of her, much like her sharp-shooting brother. And War… well the youngest of the Horsemen had almost as big a tally as the eldest. The Endwar and humanity's had become War's turning point, since from that point on the red rider would deliberately go out and find ways to circumvent direct orders…

Too unruly had they all become. Yet the Council could not destroy them outright because the riders had not broken their binding contract: protecting the balance.

In the aftermath of the Endwar, the riders had resumed the vast majority of their duties. Once Earth was purged of the remaining forces of heaven and hell, and those few that did keep their lives ran away with their tails between their legs, the riders had come before the Council and brought their judgment upon _them_. Plots and schemes were brought to light, including wrongfully slandering War's name, and all of the major participants and orchestrators of triggering the Endwar that still remained alive were also held for account.

In the end justice was brought down upon all. The Council's name was tarnished greatly for their actions, while both heaven and hell had been reminded in a most gruesome manner just what happened to those that tried to take over what wasn't theirs. Some fools among the guilty still denied in full that their actions were not unjust, like Uriel and some of the senior commanders in heaven, and despite their stubbornness to see the truth, they too paid their price. Some lost their heads, others had their wings clipped (one of the highest forms of punishment for those that served the light) or stripped of their rank, and a few others were simply thrown into exile. Hell too brought down their brand of retribution on their own kin, mostly in the form of throwing the guilty into the Grand Blood Arena: a never ending gauntlet of battles until the dammed died from injury, exhaustion or both.

Others faced their fate in a more dignified manner. Azriel and Ulthane had been among these. For their cooperation and their testimony which helped shed light to many a machination that had taken place, each had been sparred punishment from the riders. Instead, they would face justice among their own kin, with one of the riders bearing witness.

It was also the point in time where all of creation began fearing the Horsemen more than the Council…

With their reputation tarnished and their standing among creation the lowest it had been since the dawn of time, the Council knew that they could not afford any more mishaps. That meant no more unruly riders.

'_**The boy might show promise. Yet we cannot simply allow this tiny human to run unchecked with the power of one of the horsemen.' **_

'_**Hmm. Indeed. The last thing we need is disobedience from a new set of riders. The real question would be how to we keep a leash on this one?'**_

The ancients mulled their options in silence for a bit, before one of them shared its thoughts with its brethren. _**'As it stands, the boy will remain stranded on his world. That will be his containment field. This will also be his testing grounds, were we can see and measure his actions. If he if found worthy, then we shall see about allowing him to carry on the rest of the duties of a true Rider of the Apocalypse.' **_

'_**And should he fail? What if he disobeys our orders?' **_The monument on the left asked, still weary of placing all of its faith into another single, risky decision, no matter how tantalizing it was sounding.

'_**He is mortal.' **_Replied the rightmost of the ancients._** 'Sooner or later he too will pass away, either by the blade or by time. And when he does, he will meet the same fate to that which we just spared him from. At that point, we shall strip him of the powers we lended, and then we can throw his soul back into the void. A lesser Oblivion, but to a short lived human, it should prove more than enough encouragement for good behavior.' **_

The ancients simmered down and pondered about what they had just shared. It was a very unique opportunity, but it still was a very large gamble. Stretched as thin as they were, another mess up on such a grand scale could very well be the end of the Charred Council, yet none of the three ancient beings wished to be overtaken by much weaker beings.

After a long stagnant silence, the calmest, more rational one of the three ancients decided to share his thoughts.

'_**Perhaps we should first see if this child even has the necessary mindset to take over War's place. He might carry a fragment of War within him, yet it will do us no good if the human is a weakling and a coward.'**_

'_**A valid point.' **_Another commented. _**'Then we will have to awaken the boy to see if he can be of use to us.'**_

'_**Very well. Let us heal him just enough for him to awaken. Then we shall have our answers.' **_Said the last of the three.

A soft humming began to resound within the vast cavern. As far as the eye could see the lava began to bubble softly once again, fueled by the moving energies and magics being wielded by the ancient Charred Council. The air becoming thicker, denser and heavier than usual, even with the blistering heat and smoke that was ever present. All of those energies gathered around the human child gently floating in the air before the Council.

Despite all the power they lost in the last several millenias, they were still a force to be reckoned with. The forces of heaven and hell might have been content to fight each other freely, disregarding ancient pacts no longer in existence, but neither side so far had been brave enough (or stupid enough) to venture an assault on the Charred Council in their own lair. The Council's grasp might have been severely shortened, but they still enough power to completely obliterate any enemy in their presence with little more than a whim.

However, the healing arts were not a strongpoint of the Council, their objectives usually being of a more destructive nature. Still, it was no foreign concept to them. They had after all crafted various servants through magic alone, their most noticeable accomplishment being the Watchers, and to be able to craft true living beings, they needed to know all of the inner workings of a body. The wounds that the human child had sustained were hardly of any difficulty to the ancients.

With great care the Council weaved their magics, forcing bone back into its original place, repairing the fractures, and guiding the flesh back to where it belonged. In silence and with astonishing synchrony, they healed the child before them. They focused only on those injuries that proved to be life threatening or grave in nature, but opted to leave the lesser wounds be. They needed the human to be conscious, not capable of harming himself any further. The pain alone would keep the child from attempting something foolish.

When they were content with their work, the Council released the spell that had been keeping the human afloat. Free from the spell's effects, the boy quickly descended, falling into the platform before the three ancients.

And then they waited.

* * *

><p>Pain.<p>

Never in his life had Lloyd felt such excruciating pain before. His whole body felt as if he had been thrown into the fiery pits within the Triet Ruins and that Kvar had somehow come back from the grave just to further electrocute him while his flesh was still being eaten by lava.

He wanted to groan, to whimper, or to make any kind of noise at all, but his body violently denied his every request, letting instead even more spasms and painful shocks travel up and down through every part of his body. Every movement, no matter how slight it was, was likewise awarded with even more pain. It was as if he was dammed to only know pain from that point on, never to go away, and always the ever bitter reminder of his failures.

Then again, what were his failures? He could not remember… he could not even think anymore. What was his name again?

And yet, the pain suddenly receded. It did not go away entirely, but it did step back, retreating like an early morning's low rolling fog after a heavy storm. Just enough to grant some visibility, but also enough close enough to remind you that it was still there. Watching… and waiting…

The smell of fire and brimstone was what hit Lloyd first as he slowly came to. It reminded him of Efreet's fiery domain, but on a whole new scale. Almost as if he had fallen into a live volcano, not the smoldering ruins of a once great city. The heavy air, thick with smoke and ash brought tears to his eyes, and nearly made Lloyd go into a coughing fit. Not even that one time he had nearly burned down his dad's workshop when he was little by accident, did the smoke stung as badly as it did now.

Not that this place remotely even looked like Dirk's forge to begin with.

'_Where am I?'_

When his tired body refused to move (Why did everything hurt so badly?) he tried instead to wrack his brain for answers. Trying to remember what was the last thing that he did… or anything for that matter.

Wait… was that blood that he could smell? W-was… it his? But how-when did he get injured? What—?

And then suddenly, it all came flooding back to him. The Tower of Salvation, the betrayal… everything.

Panic driven, he forced his body, ignoring the oppressive pain, to lift itself up in order to see where he was. Was he dead? Did someone throw him into a Desian Ranch? Where were his friends? Where was Colette!?

But what he saw was neither the gruesome inside of the Tower of Salvation, nor the stone and metal labyrinths that made up a Desian Ranch. No, instead he saw fire and red hot stone as far as the eye could see, with the sky darker than that abandoned mine shaft in the Ossa Trail, and everything covered with the smoke coming from bubbling lava. It was as if he had fallen into the very pits of hell.

Something told him that he was in deep shit.

"**So you have finally awakened little human." **

Lloyd nearly jumped out of his skin upon hearing that deep rumbling voice that he could have sworn it sounded more like a massive earthquake that an actual voice. With adrenaline and fear overriding any pain he had been feeling up to that point, the young swordsman quickly managed to turn around to see were that voice had come from.

What he saw were three fiery mountains standing tall above the sea of flame, each with holes for eyes and a mouth from which came a swirling vortex of destructive energies. One of these mountains alone would have been more than enough to fuel the nightmares of a full grown man, but with three of them standing right next to each other… hell, he'd bet even the almighty Seraphs would have been running for their lives. And to make matters worse, each monolith extruded sheer power like no other. Overwhelming power.

And as for Lloyd himself, well, he was very much screwed over. Barely able to prop himself on his elbows as his legs refused to move at all, he was not going anywhere. Never had he felt so tiny and puny as he did at that moment.

"**Child of mankind." **Began one of the statues, snapping the swordsman from his panic driven stupor. **"State your name boy."**

For once in his life, Lloyd's brain kicked in and knew that he could not answer with his ever famous 'Give me your name and I shall give you mine'. That phrase alone had nearly killed him several times already, and he had a feeling that those stone mountains would not stop at simply killing him if he answered with that.

Given the dire situation, he opted to reply with the truth. His throat, dry and raspy from the surrounding smoke, made speaking a lot more difficult that it should have been, but he forced himself to answer. "L-Lloyd I-Irving."

A few seconds passed in silence before the whole undermountain began to shake once again. **"Hmm. Very well, Lloyd Irving, you are the first human to stand before us since the dawn of time. But do not think yourself privileged, child of man. If not for our mercy, you would have perished, tormented for all eternity as you fell into the void. It is by our will that you are even here." **

"**We spared you from your fate because you have something we desire. Answers." **Said another, slightly different voice.

"**Comply to our demands and we might let you return to your world alive. Defy us, or answer untruthfully, and you will be begging for death." **

Lloyd gulped, because he had little doubt that the three mountains would not carry out their threat.

Still, in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder what such powerful beings could want from a dwarven raised kid. Despite all the mess he had recently seen in his life, surely it was nothing outstanding… Even if his mom had been a subject to some crazy Desian scheme and the exsphere that came from her body, the very same one still attached to Lloyd's left hand was a bit out of the norm, what could they want from him?

"**We are the Charred Council. We were the ones that brought an end to the never ending wars between heaven and hell. It was we who finally created the balance between all the realms."**

"**However, your world, Aselia has done something to alienate itself from the rest of the universe. We desire to know what it is that has happened to your world."**

Aselia? Lloyd raised an eyebrow at the name. He had known his world as Sylvarant for all of his life, but Sheena had called her home world Tethe'alla. Maybe that was what the world had been called before it was split in two?

"_**ANSWER NOW HUMAN. **_**Our patience is not as eternal as we are." **One of the voices commanded, causing the cavern to tremble even more violently than before.

Lloyd flinched and quivered a bit at the shout. He desperately tried to gather his thoughts, trying to piece together was little he knew. And considering that the greater bulk of what he had been made to believe for so long was nothing but a whole bunch of lies, it left him with little worthwhile. What did he actually know to be real? So many lies, so much deception, and everything so perfectly organized that it only served to show just how inconsequential he actually was.

He was nothing more than a troublesome kid on death row. He went from the frying pan and literally, straight into hell.

And so here he was, somehow alive but bleeding badly, with everything below the waist not responding to him in the slightest, and before beings so powerful that made Yggdrassil look like a cooling ember compared to a sun in the middle of summer. And what was he doing? Probably just borrowing time before he got swatted again… and this time into the surrounding molten rock.

Tears began to form on the rims of his eyes, and his breath hitched in his throat. _'I really am going to die this time.' _There really was nothing that he could do, could he?

'_Just tell the truth. I'm already a dead man so what's to lose?' _

A sad, dry laugh escaped Lloyd's dry lips upon the realization. If anyone had seen him, they probably would have thought that he had finally gone mad. And maybe, they wouldn't have been too far off. So, once he regained his breath, he gathered the words and began. "M-my world… we knew it as S-Sylvarant. It used to be part of a single world, b-but it was split into t-two…"

As he went on, the words came easier and easier out of his mouth. All of the sadness and despair that filled his heart and mind somehow helped the words flow. And also, it helped vent out his frustrations, and ease the burden of his heavy heart.

Any other day, Lloyd would have loved to spew a grand tale about how awesome he was and how he had been the one guarding Colette along her Journey, but after recalling the last events that he could remember, his resolve had all but shattered. He felt tired, worn out, his humiliating defeat weighing heavily on his shoulders. Part of him just didn't _care_ anymore. His anger at everything was only outmatched by the despair he felt. Whatever beef these guys had with his world, then they could be his guests and go take it out on those assholes that called themselves Seraphim that completely screwed up both worlds. Besides, much like Magnius and Kvar, the Council was probably just toying with him, and would kill him off as soon as they got whatever they wanted. He couldn't walk, he couldn't fight, he could barely even more. Throwing himself into the fire hardly felt enticing, so he just continued on with his story.

In a daze, Lloyd forced himself to relive the last few months of his life. He kept his explanations short, trying to focus on the more relevant events, mainly on how Cruxis had manipulated all life on both worlds so serve one mad man's vision of an ideal future. He also spoke of the Journey of Regeneration, and how it was designed to move the mana from one world to the other. He briefly mentioned the events at each of the Seals that they had visited, and the troubles they encountered along the way, leading up to the Tower of Salvation. He finished up with his encounter with Remiel, the traitor Kratos, and finally Yggdrassil, who had been the one to throw him off the platform and into what would have been his death.

Once he was done with his tale, the whole cavern had calmed down. The lava no longer bubbling as harshly as it had been not long ago, and even the maelstroms that the Council had for eyes and mouths looked less violent, less unstable. An uneasy silence stretched for an unknown amount of time, and Lloyd, too drained and too tired to care much, just stayed there and waited in silence, lost in this thoughts. Whatever it was that they were thinking it probably was not going to be pleasant for the swordsman.

"**Tell us child." **One of the statues said after who knew how long. **"What would you say to a chance at carrying out your revenge on Yggdrassil?"**

Now _that_ snapped Lloyd out of his dark thoughts. Immediately, the Council had his full attention.

"W-What? W-what do y-you mean?" He asked.

"**There are… some things of ours that are currently stranded on your world, or worlds seeing as how there are now two where there once was one. We require someone to go retrieve it for us. In this endeavor, this Cruxis organization and those who form it are more likely than not to be the main obstacle in retrieving them."**

"**For now we might have a common enemy, although our end desires differ. You want revenge. We want back that which is ours. Perhaps we can come to an agreement."**

Part of Lloyd wondered what exactly had Yggdrassil done to piss off the Council, but hey, the bastard needed to be stopped anyway so maybe these stone monuments were on to something.

Besides wiping the ugly smirk off of the Cruxis leader's face sounded oh so wonderful right about now. And giving that bastard Kratos a good thrashing too.

And yet, a tiny part of his mind was telling Lloyd to think it over. That there had to be some catch to it.

"A-and if I r-refuse?" he dared to ask softly.

"**We shall kill you." **Was the ancient's reply.

Sooo… technically, it was either do what they say or die. How lovely. Not really much of a choice there. But then again, a shot at taking down Cruxis for all they had done, and maybe, just maybe, saving all of his friends, even Colette, would be more than worth it.

Besides, if he was going to die anyway, then why not take all those bloody bastards with him?

Maybe it had been the hit he took to the head when he collided with the jade column, or a combination of blood loss and his wounds, or maybe he just wasn't right in the head anymore, but Lloyd found himself replying with a small grin on his face.

"What… do I have to do?"

The cavern rumbled, differently this time. Not quite as it did when the Council spoke, instead it was more like the Council was _pleased_ about something.

"**Once, we had our enforcers deal with the most troublesome of foes that threatened the balance. They were the Four Horsemen."**

"**Over four thousand years ago, we sent them to your world, Aselia to deal with a war that was getting too out of hand. Most likely this was what you referred to as the Great Kharlan war. This war was threatening the very fabric of creation around it, and in the end it destroyed the Tree of Life that anchored it to all other worlds. Since the Tree's destruction, no souls have been able to pass into the afterlife, remaining trapped within the world itself." **

Holy crap! Then that meant that there were over four thousand years of souls lingering between the worlds? And with all the death and destruction caused by Cruxis and the Desians?

Then… if Lloyd had died, after falling off that platform inside the Tower of Salvation (more like Tower of Damnation), would he too have been trapped too?

Was his mom stuck too? And Marble, and everyone else that had died to create exspheres?

A new sense of dread began to spread through Lloyd's gut. Whatever he had gotten himself into, it was no longer about just saving Sylvarant and Colette. Heck, not even personal revenge. There was something bigger, much bigger at play, and he was beginning to think that what little he knew about the worlds was a lot smaller than he had ever imagined. And this, suddenly discovering that there were thousands, if not millions of trapped souls lingering about, was probably just the tip of the iceberg.

The ancients gave Lloyd a few moments so that the gravity of the situation could sink in before continuing.

"**With the destruction of the Tree, our Horsemen have become stranded as well. We know not their fate, but we require that they be found, rescued if needed be, so that we can begin to reestablish the Balance that has been crumbling since their sudden disappearance."**

"Umm… but how do I fit in all this? I'm just a human." Lloyd had started to become increasingly unsure about just what his role would be in all of this. Whatever was going on, he was clearly way in over his head. This was way worse than that exam he took in Palmacosta along with the rest of the Group. He had been struggling with basic math when a good chunk of the test revolved around theoretical whatchamacallits that he couldn't even pronounce right.

"**As you are now, you wouldn't last a day against the battles that are taking place all over the universe. Given how long it has been since the Tree's destruction we must prepare for the worst and assume that the Horsemen are dead. To this, we must find worthy replacements for them. Four successors, one for each rider." **Said the leftmost effigy.

"**Their power and their remains lie somewhere in your worlds. Your task shall be twofold. First and foremost you must recover the remains of the Horsemen and then to find someone worthy of bearing their title and might. Secondly, you must find a way to reconnect Aselia to the Tree of Life. From the ashes of the Kharlan Tree as you called it, there should be a way to revive it or to sprout a new one." **Continued the center monolith.

"**However you will only be able to do so after recovering all four of the Horsemen. You will need their combined power in order to resurrect the Tree. For this reason alone their recovery takes precedence over all else. And in order for you to accomplish this, you shall be the first of the new Riders."**

"W-wait what?!"

Barely had Lloyd managed to croak out his question when he felt astoundingly powerful magic suddenly hoist him up into the air. As much as he tried to squirm for freedom, whatever spells the Council had used on him held him in an iron grip. From his new vantage point he could see how the whole cavern began to shake with renewed energy, dust and stone falling off from whatever unseeable ceiling as the large sea of lava twisted and churned from whatever energies where suddenly fed into it.

And from the small area of fire enclosed by the Council and the platform Lloyd had been on up until that moment, rose something else. Something that looked a lot like a large broadsword.

"**You, Lloyd Irving of Aselia, shall become the new Red Rider. War." **From the massive sword that had just risen from the fiery deeps, a strange blood red aura began to appear, surrounding the strange blade, before concentrating into a single bright sphere of chaotic energy on the very tip of the weapon's hilt. And then, without warning, it flew straight at Lloyd, hitting him squarely in the chest.

Lloyd screamed in pain until his throat was raw and could no longer make any sound. Massive amounts of pain, even worse that what he had felt before awakening not so long ago, coursed through him. This time, it felt as if his blood had been replaced with the very fires that filled the Charred Council's domain, burning, eating him, from the inside out. At the same time, it also felt as if someone was twisting his guts, almost ripping them apart, along with every single bone in his entire body. _Something_ was happening to his body… as if the Council had suddenly started to systematically rip away every part within him and replace it with something else, something far stronger…

And just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The next thing he knew, Lloyd found himself panting heavily on his hands and knees back on the platform (when did he get down?), eyes closed and facing downward, as his body shaking from exhaustion. And yet, he felt different from before. He felt as if raw power had suddenly been pumped into him.

"**We of the Charred Council bestow upon you his name and tittle, as well as the weapon that made entire armies of both Heaven and Hell tremble in fear. Chaoseater." **

With every last ounce of energy left within him, Lloyd forced himself to look up, at the strange blade from where his newfound power had suddenly originated from came from. It was a massive blade, taller than he probably was and wider than his arm length. But perhaps what really stood out was the series of gruesome skulls that were placed along the flat side of the blade, surrounded by a jagged edge that looked like it would cut through metal and stone like a hot knife through butter. Overall, it certainly looked every bit like something that could cut down armies as if they were blades of grass.

"**This is but a small fragment of the power your predecessor held." **WHAT?! Lloyd could barely believe what he was hearing now. **"You will have to obtain the rest of it on your journey."**

"**As a Rider, you shall from henceforth answer to us and strive to serve the Balance between all living beings. But first, you must find the other Horsemen. Seek them out, along with the rest of War's belongings for you will surely need them. And should you stumble upon Cruxis or those that you called friends, you may do as you wish."**

"**But keep in mind, young Rider, that should you fail in either of the two missions that we have given you, we shall extract from you the powers we have bestowed upon you and find another, more worthy replacement, while throwing your soul to rot forever in the abyss. Now go, AND DO NOT DISSAPOINT US!" **

Magic suddenly started to build up around Lloyd and he had no time to react before he was thrown across entire worlds.

At some point, exhaustion had finally won over him, causing him to lose consciousness. The last thing he could vaguely remember was the sudden sensation of flying through clean, crisp, smoke free air, followed by a hard earth beneath him as sounds of a forest surrounded him.

'_I guess… I made it. Heh. I'm… back… I'm alive.' _With a weak smile on his face, Lloyd found himself embracing sweet slumber.

* * *

><p>The next time Lloyd woke up, he wondered if he had just had one hell of a bad nightmare. His body was stiff and sore, his throat dry and parched, and overall, just plain worn out.<p>

"G-guys? W-where are we?" He asked as he tried to roll over. Good gods, did he fall asleep without putting down a bedroll? No wonder he was sore.

But then it registered him that no one had answered him. "Guys?"

As tired as he was, he forced himself to sit up straight, and began to look for his friends. Instead he found himself alone in a sparsely wooden area, and a giant sword half impaled into the earth not five feet away from him.

_Chaoseater._

Memories suddenly flooded to him. The betrayal at the tower, the revelation of the origin behind the worlds, and the meeting with the Charred Council.

"I-it wasn't a-a-a… d-dream? A really bad, and scary crazy d-dream?" He softly asked out loud in barely a whisper.

As much as he would have wanted to deny it, that sword before him was no lie. He was now one of the Riders. One of the Horsemen…

While his brain tried frantically to process everything that had happened, Lloyd suddenly felt as if a new presence had crept up behind him. In a jolt, he turned around quickly, yet found nothing out of the norm. Shakingly, he took a few steps back, before putting a tentative hold over Chaoseater's hilt, the nearest weapon at hand since both of his swords where nowhere to be found. If there really was something out there getting ready to attack him, then he was not going down without a fight.

But after several tense moments, nothing came. Lloyd looked around in every direction and nothing.

Just as Lloyd was trying to force himself to relax, he heard a voice in the back of his mind. It was deeper, rougher… and definitely not his own.

'_**W-who… are you? W-Where… am I?'**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thank you all for your hits, favs, follows and reviews! Especially to Aslynn and Yue Twili for their reviews. I hope I continue to deliver a kick ass story.**

**Dam it's been over two months since my first chapter, and man did my midterms suddenly seam to fuse into my finals and blah, no time at all. Heck, I barely even decorated my home for Christmas. **

**Still I finally got some inspiration and time to write this next chapter. Now we get to see a bit of what happened to War, and how Lloyd deals with his current situation, and I must say I am pleased with how this turned out. **

**Not a whole lot of warnings needed for this chapter. I've kept the blood and gore down (which is actually unusual for me) in order to keep the T rating. If folks start saying that I overdid it, or if I get enough people telling me to screw the rating and ramp up the violence, then heck yeah I'll shift it to M and tweak the necessary parts, probably add another thousand or so words, but oh well. 3**

**No beta reader as of yet. I'll be fixing any typos or screw ups I see within the next few days. I just wanted to get this up while my inspiration was still strong and the caffeine from that cup of coffee I had in the afternoon wears off, lol. That, and before I suddenly throw myself in full at Warlords of Draenor, hehehe.**

**So here we go!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Darksiders nor Tales of Symphonia.

* * *

><p>When he finally regained consciousness, War found himself utterly confused. He felt tired, dizzy, but most of all strange. A heavy haze clouded his mind still, refusing to release its hold. His thoughts scattered and incongruent, making it all the more difficult to piece together what had happened.<p>

He recalled various events, from the days of his youth, when he had been but a runt, one of many of the nephilim younglings fighting for survival, followed by scenes from a more recent –or felt like more recent- battle against a fair sized squadron of angels within the confines of an ivory white building. Images of the day he became one of the Four Horsemen, and the annihilation of the rest of the blood thirsty Nephilim. A floating garden, bathed in the colors of never ending autumn and hidden from the rest of existence by the strongest of magics, with a giant tree glowing in ethereal light in the distance. Then a sea of stone, copper, brass and steel constructs, tearing away at an already diseased world in search for something… His brother, Death, reprimanding him for letting his old bloodlust from his Nephilim days get the better of him…

More images came and went. Images of people he had met, places he had gone, battles he had fought, and many others that he had killed. Little could unnerve the battle hardened Horseman after eons of working under the Charred Council and serving the Balance. But for all his knowledge and hard earned experience in the battlefield, there we still times when he could be caught by surprise.

And that was one thing he did not like at all.

The current feeling of weakness, exhaustion and dizziness was no stranger to War. He had felt their combined grip many times before, usually whenever he had faced an enemy that had bested him at combat, much to his displeasure. This time however, there was something different, something off… something missing.

War was not immortal. Despite his status as one of the Four, he could still bleed, he could still die. Bitterly, he would admit to having died a few times, but only to a small handful of people that had earned his trust. Each time his body finally collapsed under him, and his soul beginning to leave his still warm corpse, the Charred Council would weave their magics, as per the pact that was formed when the Four Horsemen came to be, and his body would be mended and healed, until he could once again resume his duties as an enforcer of the Balance.

Yet, that period in which his body was being reformed, was never pleasant. In reality it was torture. The Council cared not for the pain War was brought under, as he was forced to feel as every little bit of his body was forcefully pushed, pulled, broken and remade anew, while War's soul was still bound to it due to the Council's magic. And whenever the process was finished, War would appear before the Council, haggard and bare, before having his sword and clothing handed back to him along with some of the foulest of jobs that the Council could come up with.

Many times had War come to believe that it was another way for the Council to reprimand him for his failures. Wisely, War had kept his suspicions to himself.

This time however, he could not feel the Council's harsh magic around him. He could feel the cold, harsh grip of death (not his brother mind you) tugging at his soul, as well as the usual lethargy that would cling to him for several days afterward, but no Council.

In fact he could not feel his body at all.

He could sense that he was in something, that felt like a body, yet it did not answer to him. Instead, he felt as if he was floating in water, where his toughs would echo with increasing clarity as the haze of confusion began to recede.

It took War much effort on his part to finally open his eyes, and when he did, it left him even more confused, and raised more questions than it gave answers.

A forest. He was in a forest, a rather thin one, but one full of life. The last thing he could recall was… was… he could not remember. Hadn't he been with his brothers? All Four of them, riding together, for the first time since… since when? Wait, they had been before the Council, all four of them. It was something dire and urgent. A world in danger, not from the grandiose plans from heaven and neither from the schemes of hell's commanders. No… the world had been… tearing itself apart? There was fighting, yes, fighting. Actually no, it was no little fight, it was a battle. A large battle, filled with screams of surprise, pain and anger, with the smell of blood, steel and magic heavy in the air. The sound of war horns bellowing somewhere around them, alongside the growls, roars and whines of various animals forced into the fight for one side or the other. His brothers, calling out to him, distress clear in their voices, and then… blank.

What in the name of the Creator had happened?

Where ever he was, it was not the warzone he could recall within tiny glimpses. For one, the smell was different. It was that of green leaves, moist earth and still living wood. No trace of the carnage that dotted the last fragments of his memory. Instead of the sea of corpses from the dead and a landscape molded and shaped by the ravages of war, he saw foliage and greenery from that of a thin forest, with beams of soft daylight finding its way to the ground floor, followed by the sound of leaves and branches moving with the gentle wind, along with the chirping of birds and the sounds of other insects, all joined into a rather soothing symphony of sounds.

Even more confusing was the fact that he was somehow moving, but not out of his own accord.

And then he heard a voice, very much different from his own. Too young, too soft, a few pitches too high to be that of a man. A boy he concluded, not that he could see anyone, much less a child.

The child spoke up again, asking out into the wilderness for what War presumed were his friends. No answer came back.

His view changed suddenly, as if he was turning left and right, to better gauge his surroundings. Again, not of his own volition. The moment he wished to turn one way, his body, or container as he was beginning to fear, turned in a different direction and moved in sluggish erratic movements.

War was not in control of whatever he was in. That much was evident. He was also starting to suspect that somehow he was within the boy he kept hearing.

And then he saw Chaoseater. His blade. The sword with which he had cut down entire armies, even out of his own kin. A weapon that lived for the thrill of the fight, and loved nothing more than to drink the blood of its enemies.

Indeed few knew that Chaoseater was a sentient weapon. Partly because there were few others left in existence that knew of the blade's infamous history of driving all those who tried to wield it mad with bloodlust. Long before it had come to War's hands, the sword had effectively driven all of its previous would-be wielders to their deaths in combat. Even its maker. The blade had been all too happy to land into War's hands during the height of the rampaging Nephilim horde, and had nearly overwhelmed War with bloodlust on more than one occasion. Even later, once he was a Horseman, the blade had also tried to take over him in response to the sudden lack of killing. Death, his brother, had been the one to stop him, taking the fearsome blade right though the chest without so much as even a wince in order to keep him and the hungry blade immobile long enough to cut off his arm.

Upon regaining clarity, War had made it his personal mission to keep the blade's will well under submission. It took many long eons before he finally managed to crush the blade's reluctant resistance. Chaoseater had come to acknowledge him as his one and only wielder, if only because it detested being wielded by novices and other lesser beings.

If fact the blade had taken a liking to forcing any who attempted to wield it into attacking its allies, or if alone, causing the foe to cut off his or her own limbs. It would have been comical, if it were not downright disturbing more often than not.

And yet, when an unfamiliar gloved hand reached out towards the hilt of the blade, the ancient weapon did not hiss out at the new person. At any other time, the blade would have glowed with chaotic energy, effectively possessing any that tried to place a hand on it, making them do whatever the bladed fancied.

The fact that the blade did not react at all was almost as disturbing the fact that War still had little clue as to what had happened to him. It was almost as if… the sword had accepted his newcomer as his owner… But that was impossible! The mighty blade would never have picked a new swordsman… unless…

…Unless War was no longer one of the Four Horsemen.

A chill crept into the potentially ex-horseman's soul. Never, in all the thousands and millions of years that he had donned the mantle of the Red Rider, had he ever envisioned himself being anything else but a Rider. A Rider from the moment the Pact had been formed and straight till all of Creation imploded in on itself and descended straight into Oblivion.

At that point, War decided that drowning in half-baked what-ifs was not going to get him any closer to the truth. Currently, his best option was to try to get some answers out of the young man that he kept hearing but could not see.

Judging from the uneasy movements coming from his host (for lack of a better word), War figured out that the boy was about as confused as he was.

It took him a few long and agonizing minutes, but eventually he found enough strength to voice out his inquiries.

'_**W-who… are you? W-Where… am I?'**_

Not all that surprisingly, the boy nearly jumped out of his skin, with a low, high pitched yelp escaping his throat. Panic must have taken hold of the child, for he began to turn every which way looking for a would-be assailant. The rapid movements however, only served to worsen War's monster of a headache.

While he was expecting an answer, he did not expect it to come in the form of a skull splitting shrill of a cry.

"W-Who's there?!"

If he still had a body to call his own, War would have most likely covered his ears to block out the sound as much as he could. Normally his pride would have been enough to stop him from showing such blatant weakness, but his current state left much to be desired.

Weak. War was weak in his current state. Not even when he marched when the first horns called for the Endwar, when he was forced to face Straga upon the wreckage of a once lively city filled with humans, suddenly crippled and stripped or nearly all power, had he felt so weak. His subsequent service to the Charred Council, while leashed to the Watcher, was no better.

If anything… it reminded him of darker days… some of his darker moments, as a child among the Nephilim horde.

And those were thoughts that even War preferred not to dwell on. Not even on a good day.

War lost track of time from the pain in his head, but eventually the ringing in his ears subsided enough for him to speak back. Still the words came out broken, weaker, than he would have liked.

'_**Not… so loud… What… happened?' **_

This time, the boy stilled. War could somehow sense that the child was still on guard, his grip not wavering even a bit from Chaoseater's hilt, yet he was no longer about to run off and do something brash. At the very least, War found himself thankful when the youngster lowered his voice.

"Uhh… who are you?"

War blinked at the question. He had expected a whole sleight of panic induced demands, and yet he got instead a simple, forward question. He stopped to think on said question, for who exactly was he anymore? Was he still War? Was he still a Horsemen? Or was he nothing more than a pitiful ghost, a remnant, a fragment of a once great legacy?

Did he have anything at all, left to claim as his own?

He gulped at the sudden fear that suddenly began to creep up his soul, shaking his worrisome thoughts away. It would not serve him at all to ponder on what-ifs and maybes. He might not currently be able to claim to _have_ something, he could still recall what he _had_. War could work with that.

'_**I am… War, Rider of the Red Horse. One of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse… or I was…'**_

An uneasy silence enveloped both of them.

"Then… It was not a dream." The boy almost croaked in a barely audible whisper after many minutes.

As the silence stretched on, War started to perceive feelings that were not his own. Confusion, fear and dread were slowly being replaced by pain and despair. A small, tiny sliver of acceptance was thrown into the mix at some point, such as that when a man comes to accept that he was walking towards his death.

That was when War realized that he was not the only one that needed answers. Something had happened since he last rode to quell an uprising. Something very big, and now both he and this boy were suddenly thrown into a maelstrom.

His suspicions where confirmed when the boy suddenly dropped to his knees, the gravity of the situation eating away at his remaining strength and resolve. A weak sob escaped his lips while his body began to shake from the onslaught of emotions. Tears soon followed, along with some not-quite-so muffled cries.

For now, War left the boy be. He was not one to shower pity upon others, not to mention he highly doubted that the boy either needed it or wanted it. Instead, he focused on sorting out what few pieces of information he had gathered.

He knew that he and the other Horsemen had ridden to a world that was on the brink of destroying itself. I mighty battle had taken place, but the exact details were lost to him. His memory is by large still mostly incoherent and filled with numerous gaps. Now, he was without a body, somehow attached to a stranger. Before him, Chaoseater stood, impaled halfway into the moist earth, ghastly skulls on its broadside and not a single crack or smear on its razor sharp edge. The blade had accepted the boy without a fight.

If anything, it all pointed towards a possibility that actually brought both fear and rage upon War. He had been replaced as a Horsemen, and this child was his successor.

He did not like it one bit.

Part of him was beginning to seethe in anger, urging him to kill the boy or somehow claim his body and then ride to the Charred Council to _demand_ answers. No one replaced War so casually, especially not with some unproven whelp that would not even be able to lift Chaoseater with _both_ hands. His plans however, were brought to a halt.

"I really am dammed."

Bloodlust suddenly forgotten, War tried to wrap his mind around those four words, uttered so painfully that even he had to steel himself from cringing. Why did the child sound so defeated when he had just acquired power beyond reckoning? The might of War was not something to be made slight at, but War could tell that there was something else amidst.

'_**Child, what is your name? How did you come upon that blade?'**_

The boy almost jumped back, taken by surprise by Wars voice, but soon relaxed, then shifted to a more comfortable position. War waited for the boy to be ready to speak, and after a few deep breaths, he began.

"You are War right? Rider of the Red Horse?"

'_**Yes.' **_He urged the boy on.

The boy sighed deeply then ran a hand through his hair. "My name is Lloyd Irving, and I got picked to be your replacement."

Logic had pointed it out to War beforehand that that was the most likely of circumstances, but to actually hear it out loud was a different story altogether. The truth was as bitter and hard to stomach as some of the fouler ales and brews made by the Makers that War had ever had the misfortune to downing a mug.

His only consolation was that Lloyd was apparently as displeased with the current situation as he was.

'_**Tell me Lloyd, how is it that you became my successor.' **_He asked the boy trying to keep his anger out of his voice.

The boy flinched at the question, before raising his head to gaze upon Chaoseater. "It's going to be a long story, just so you know."

'_**Seeing as how we are currently stuck with each other, I believe it would be best if we both knew exactly what has happened.' **_He chided at the boy.

"You got a point there." Lloyd sighed again. "And I don't have a clue as to what the Charred Council was saying so here goes."

War listened carefully to the Lloyd's story. Initially he was about to dismiss much of it as being a child's over-exaggerated mind, but as soon as more and more details began to emerge on the real meaning behind the Journey of Regeneration, War found himself growling at the sheer audacity that Cruxis had displayed. Later on, came the events at the Tower of Salvation, where everything finally unraveled. It was a very complex scheme, War had to admit, and it had been executed so flawlessly that if it had not been for some sheer dumb luck, Lloyd and his friends would have been either non-the-wiser, or killed off as soon as their usefulness had come to an end.

But what really got under War's skin was Lloyd's meeting with Charred Council. All four of the Horsemen had fallen. _All_ of them. That had never happened since the Pact had been forged. One or two of them maybe, rendered temporarily unable to fight, but to have defeated them all so soundly that the Council had not been able to whisk them away to have their bodies back to reform? Not even his eldest brother, Death, undoubtedly the most powerful and resourceful of them all?

Had it really been over four thousand years since War had died? Back when Sylvarant and Tethe'alla had still been one world, before one single man ripped it apart and placed upon the two battered and war-weary halves an elaborate system in order to breed the perfect replacement body for a fake goddess?

And War thought Heaven was messed up.

By the end of Lloyd's story, War's anger that fully faded away. The young swordsman got into his current position through no real fault of his own, forced between having to pick between eternal servitude or a horrible death. The possibility at having his revenge was Lloyd's only consolation prize. And for better or for worse, it also meant that War would be stuck within the boy in spirit, watching over him and guiding him on, somewhat akin as to how the Watcher had once been bound to him, turning him into a dog on a leash, while sought out his revenge.

Revenge. Such a fickle thing. War was no stranger to it, for more than once it had been the only thing keeping him strong. Revenge had fueled his body, tempering his rage and bloodlust, and driven him forward as he had once marched upon the overrun Earth after the Endwar had broken out, and where he had been unjustly accused of single handedly unleashing it. And while revenge alone was enough of a motivation for him, seeing the young human he was currently residing in so confused and broken emotionally, he highly doubted it would be enough for Lloyd.

But, as things were now, he was powerless to do anything. His siblings probably even more so. If he ever wanted to find out what exactly had happened, what had defeated him and all of the Horsemen —ridding with the full backing of the seals no less— then he would have to forge a true Horseman out of this pup of a human.

Not to mention, if someone or something had managed to destroy the Four so easily, what did that spell for the rest of Creation?

'_**What will you do now Lloyd?' **_He asked the younger swordsman after much thinking. He had never been one for much words, preferring to have Chaoseater's blade do the 'talking' for him, but now it was all he had left, and he needed something to coax the boy into action.

"Er—What do you mean?" The boy blinked back up to the Chaoseater.

War sighed. He knew he was going to be in for a long haul. _**'You have escaped death, but now you are bound to the Council and their edict. Meaning you must recover my… powers, as much as dislike to admit it, and discover what befell my brothers.'**_

"I'm about as fond of this as you are, believe me." The boy grumbled under his breath. "But still, I don't know even where to start. Hell, where am I even?"

'_**Can you even lift Chaoseater?' **_

"Uhh—er… I dunno?"

If he could, War would have slapped the boy over the head right there and then. But being incorporeal and all, he had to settle for the next best thing.

'_**Lloyd, get up. Try to pick it up. You—**_**We**_** won't get far if you do not learn to properly wield a sword.' **_

Lloyd grumbled under his breath but he did get up. "I'll have you know that I do know how to wield a sword. I just prefer using two swords instead of one giant one."

War remained quiet as he watched the younger swordsman placed one hand on Chaoseater's hilt. He gave it a heave and the blade slid out just a bit from the ground. With a growl, he then grabbed it with both hands, this time placing all energy into it and pulled. The sword resisted at first, but after the third good pull, the fearsome blade was free from the earth.

The sword was just as he remembered, gruesome visage and everything. And now, seeing it in Lloyd's hands, calmly and without a fight, there left no doubt in his mind to War that he had been indeed replaced. On the other hand, he had his work cut out for him. Lloyd could barely lift the blade with a single hand. He would need to use both hands while he got used to it, not to mention getting him acquainted with a fighting style very much different to his previous one was going to be a chore in on itself.

"This… is going to take some getting used to." Lloyd said as began to turn Chaoseater around in order to get a better view of the intricate details that adorned its length.

War raised an eyebrow at the boy's curiosity but proceeded to warn him. _**'Don't get too careless. The edge might look uneven but it will slice off your fingers with the slightest touch.'**_

"Oi! I know not to handle a sword by its edge. My dad's a blacksmith and I used to help him around the forge." Lloyd yelled out in his defense. "I'm just—well this is some pretty dam good craftsmanship. Each side is slightly different, but how did they manage to get all the details in?"

'_**Never thought I'd see someone actually interested in Chaoseater instead of turning around and make a run for their lives after recognizing it.' **_War thought out loud.

The former Horseman watched on as Lloyd mussed over the ancient blade. Taking in every little detail, twist and turn. So he had ended with a blacksmith's son. He could work with that. At the very least, his successor was someone that would appreciate Chaoseater for what it was, and not take it for granted, wielding it as if it was any other greatsword. If anything, the blade was probably enjoying the sudden admiration.

Both swordsmen, current and former stopped in their tracks when they heard a very specific whistling in the wind. War snapped to attention, Lloyd reacting in the blink of an eye and side stepping away just in time for an arrow to miss his head by a few scarce inches, hitting a nearby tree with a dull _thunk_.

'_**Looks like you will be learning to wield Chaoseater on live targets much sooner than I had planned.'**_

"Not what I had planned either, you know." Lloyd talked back in a soft whisper as he turned around towards the direction the arrow had come.

In quick succession, he was forced to dodge three more arrows, rolling away to take cover behind the trunk of a particularly large tree. The arrows stopped then, but Lloyd knew he was far from safe, even if he did have Chaoseater in his hand.

"Bloody hell. Bandits. Of all the times—" He swore under his breath.

'_**Think, don't talk out loud. Don't give your position away.' **_War ordered.

'_Are you going to go all Kratos on my ass too?' _The boy rolled his eyes as he mentally replied, but his attention remained on the lookout for his aggressors.

'_**If it gets us out of this alive, then yes, I will. Now crouch down, grab Chaoseater with both hands and get ready to lunge out as soon as an enemy is visible.' **_

Lloyd seethed at the orders but obeyed. Dirk, his dad, had thought him how to use a variety of weapons, including greatswords, before he had settled on his preferred two-handed fighting approach. Speed and agility came naturally to him, which worked well with lighter weapons, but in a pinch he could still improvise with something bigger. So he remained still, paying close attention to the bandit's footsteps. The fact that they were being careless played to the benefit of the Riders, every crunch of leaves or snap of a twig gave them away just a little more.

'_**Left. Now!' **_

Lloyd sprang into action. He rolled to his side, and kicked out at the bandit that had almost been upon him, sweeping him off his feet and causing him to fall back ungracefully on his rear. Lloyd gave him no pause, righting himself just in time and using Chaoseaters weight and current momentum to bring the massive sword upon the criminal in a horizontal slash. He was cleaved cleanly in two, the sword cutting through the man's rough leather and chainmail armor like a hot knife through butter.

The man didn't even have time to scream in pain before Lloyd brought the fearsome blade back down, this time severing the head from the upper half of body.

'_**20 feet away, to your right, behind the tree with the yellow flowers. An archer.'**_

Lloyd leaped aside and honed in on the location War had given him. Arrows flew by but none of them hit the newly appointed Horseman. Soon Lloyd was upon the archer and made quick work out of him. Only this one, did have enough time to yell out before getting run through with Chaoseater.

"Bastard!" one of the remaining bandits cursed at Lloyd at the top of his lungs as he charged towards the Rider.

'_**Behind you. Two of them. Melee fighters.'**_

Kicking off the dead bandit from Chaoseater's edge, Lloyd held the sword in front of him in a tight grip with both hands, and dug his right foot into the ground to brace himself for impact. They came right at him. Just as the first one was about to bring his sword down on Lloyd's head, he shifted Chaoseater just enough to parry, catching the bandit's crude sword among one of the uneven edge's of the sword's side. Then, with a smirk on his face, Lloyd pushed back, throwing the bandit off balance, and punching him square in the face, before bringing the fearsome weapon around in a great arc, ending said bandit before he could even recover. His companion soon followed, falling lifelessly next to his companion in several pieces.

As he fought on, Lloyd began to realize that he was fighting a lot better than he would have normally done with a weapon he was almost completely new to. Not only that, but he was moving more fluidly that normal, as if on instinct, and properly. War's commands alone where not guiding him, but there was something else, something that made his muscles taunt and throw himself into whatever reaction was needed almost before War himself ordered it. For now, he shoved the oddity into the back of his mind, allowing the unknown blessing to aid him at the moment. He could question the elder Horseman about it later.

'_**At least two more… There, on the branch 40 feet away, another archer.' **_War quickly informed his successor after spotting the poorly hidden adversary.

Once Lloyd found said archer, he towards him, using the trees as the terrain for cover as much as he could. This one proved to be more of a challenge because he was not on the ground level like Lloyd was, not to mention he had managed to climb up a good 10 feet, barely enough to stay out of Lloyd's reach, even with Chaoseater.

'_**Duck! Roll right!' **_War ordered suddenly.

Caught by surprise, Lloyd barely had time to move away from an upcoming axe that would have otherwise claimed his head.

"You killed four of my best men in less than a minute. I guess I'll have to take you seriously." Came a gruff voice a few feet away. A bear of a man that could have given Magnius a run for his money stood before Lloyd, the leader of the group if he had to guess. The large axe in his hands looked worn and beaten, but still a threat by all means. "We would have taken all your money and belongings, but not anymore. You die here and now!"

Lloyd soon found himself on the defensive. Having to block, parry and dodge most of the attacks from the axe man at the same time as keeping an eye out for the archer up above and any other left over bandits. Between the two assailants he had few openings, and none of which were wide enough for him to flip Chaoseater into an offensive position. More than once, he had been saved by War's quick orders of 'dodge left' and 'swing right', but that did not stop him from gaining injuries. Three arrows had nicked him, two along the arms and one by his left thigh, and the axe man had also managed to draw blood from several places. Although he was not quite tired as of yet, Lloyd knew that unless he managed to dispatch the man before him soon, they would sooner or later manage to land enough injuries to slow him down or lessen his ability to defend himself. War was also getting more and more on edge.

'_**We need to try something else. This will get us nowhere. Do you know any kind of spell, skill or anything else?' **_War asked hurriedly as Lloyd managed to dodge another quick succession of attacks.

'Not that I can pull of with a weapon as heavy as Chaos—Gaaaahhh!'

Both Riders swore as an arrow managed to hit Lloyd on his thigh, almost right to the bone. Lloyd staggered back and clenched his teeth as he quickly grabbed hold of the shaft and pulled the arrow out. To his dismay, the wood broke under his grip, leaving the point of the arrow still lodged deeply into his thigh. Blood began to pour from the wound, and Lloyd knew that running away was no longer an option. Still Lloyd pushed on, pass the pain in his leg, going for everything he had, even underhanded moves he would have normally refrained from using.

War however, was getting increasingly worried. Had it been just him, even at his weakest, he would have still been able to gather Chaoseater's energy as the blade drank from the enemies it cut down. Lloyd however, had not access to his old abilities, and had to rely on the blade's edge alone. If only he could take over the boy's body! At least he knew how to enter a berserk like state and turn whatever pain and injury into pure raw power. Desperately, he wished that there was something that he could do, but without a body he was powerless to do anything at all, save for coaching the boy on.

And yet, out of the corner of his eye he caught something. A yellow-orange glow, like molten gold. He knew that glow. Chaoseater. The blade had drank enough Chaos energy to unleash destruction upon his enemies. It was a long shot, but they were running out of options.

'_**Lloyd! Quickly, gather the energy that is coursing through Chaoseater and focus it into your right arm!'**_

'_The hell?! Whoa!'_ The boy was skeptical, but he did so as he barely managed to parry another attack.

'_**Just do it! Then ram Chaoseater into the ground and let that energy flow into the sword and outward!'**_

Lloyd grunted as he pushed the bandit leader away after kneeing him in the gut then did as War had told him. The young Rider did not know what to expect but soon felt as if a soft fire had filled his soul, easing away the pain of his injuries and for a moment, allowed him to think clearly. Something else flooded his system, a powerful, strong rage surged through him, but it did not blind him as it once did. No, this time, the world seamed to flow into focus, his senses grew sharper, and time slowed down. He could see the archer drawing another arrow, swearing when he realized that he only had three more left. Meanwhile the bandit leader spit away the blood that he had gathered in his mouth, and Lloyd could also hear the man's teeth grinding.

For once in his life, Lloyd did not dally in wonder of his newfound heightened senses. Instead, he followed War's orders, focusing this new energy into his arm, then lifting the mighty weapon into air before stabbing it into the ground, letting the energy flow from him and into the sword, and in turn into the ground. Almost immediately, over a dozen or so copies of Chaoseater emerged from the ground around Lloyd, edge upwards, creating a ring of deadly blades around the swordsman, and also impaling the bandit leader.

'_**Blade Geyser.' **_War smirked at the ring of blades around him.

After pulling the blade out from the ground, the bandit fell to the ground, limp and dead to the world.

"And then there was one." Lloyd said out loud staring straight at the remaining bandit.

War broke into a savage grin. He was relieved that his idea had worked and pleased with the results. The look of pure fear in the eyes of the remaining bandit was an extra bonus. Now _that_ was the look that everyone should have when they come across one of the Horsemen.

'_**Yes. One to go.'**_

Calmly, Lloyd stepped over the corpse and made his way towards the single remaining bandit. The archer fumbled with his remaining arrows, two sailing clear passed him, and the last requiring of Lloyd no more than to tilt his head off to the side for it fly by without so much as slicing even a single strand of hair. Out of arrows, the archer drew the only remaining weapons he had, a pair of short daggers. Soon enough, Lloyd stood under the fear stuck archer, who wisely or not so wisely remained on his perch, just out of the swordsman's reach.

'_Hmm… If one of your old Artes worked, then maybe one of mine will also work'_ Lloyd smirked as he eyed the broadside of Chaoseater.

'_**Oh?'**_ War urged on, his tone mischievous. _**'What did you have in mind?'**_

'_Weeeeell…'_ Lloyd began to sing-song in his mind. _'If he doesn't want to come down, then I guess I'll have to make him fall, branch and all.'_

For a second, Lloyd closed his eyes and searched within him, seeking out his own, inner energy. Mana. All living things had mana. Unlike his friend and teacher, who were elves and could see and sense it easily around them, it was only through his mom's old keepsake, the exsphere that had taken her life and now resided on Lloyd's left hand, that he was able to gather and channel mana. And with mana he could empower his Artes. It did not take him long to find it. His own personal fount of mana. It was nearly depleted, but there was just enough left for him to carry out his current plan. The question however was, if it would respond to him. So he called out to it, pulling its energy out towards the rest of his body.

It responded to him, sluggishly but it did seep out into his limbs. Lloyd grinned.

Flipping Chaoseater over in one hand, Lloyd dashed towards the trunk of the tree, allowing his momentum to carry him as he took a few steps along the weathered trunk before jumping away from the tree. Then, just as he pushed himself away from the tree, the called upon his mana and quickly tucked his legs in into one of his familiar techniques.

"Tempest!" he roared as his body spinning quickly into multiple somersaults and his grip on Chaoseater turning him into a moving saw blade.

The bandit might have managed to miss the blade's edge, but the branch which he had been perched on crumbled upon the sudden onslaught. The bandit fell along with the severed branch, taking heavy damage from impact after getting tangled with some of the thinner branches.

The fall aggravated some of the injuries that Lloyd had sustained, especially the embedded arrow point in his leg, but he was left in better shape that the last bandit.

Once, several months back, Lloyd would have shown mercy to a defeated foe, but the Journey of Regeneration had been a harsh teacher in more ways than one. Sometimes it was better to kill off an enemy than to let it walk away. Some monsters and humans (or half-elves for that matter) could go and warn others, only to come back and attack in greater numbers. So now, seeing the last remaining bandit trapped under a small mess of wood and leaves, with what clearly was a broken leg at the very least, Lloyd knew that this man would not survive without immediate medical attention. And even then it was still questionable if the man would recover enough to carry out a normal (hopefully crime-free) life.

After taking a deep breath, Lloyd heaved Chaoseater once more and brought it down once more. A killing blow. A quick death. Probably a lot more that the criminal deserved.

Only after silence filled the nearby area, did Lloyd allow himself to relax. He stepped away from the last archer before slumping to the ground, his back resting into the bark of a tree that had managed to survive unscathed from the fight. His body felt strained from the effort, and now that the danger was over, the pain of his injuries roared back to life in full. He would have to tend to them the old fashion way, because all of his old gear was lost, unless he could find a gel or two on the bandits. A few other provisions would also be nice.

With a grunt, Lloyd forced himself back up and proceeded to pick the bodies clean of anything of use.

'_**Not bad boy. For your first fight using Chaoseater.' **_War spoke up after a while.

Lloyd stopped to gulp down an apple gel that he had found on one of the corpses before responding. _'Er… thanks I guess.'_

'_**You guess?'**_ War's voice turned cold and deadly. The former horsemen rarely gave out praise, and it did not sit well with him when it was so carelessly brushed away.

The younger of the two winced, either from the warning-lanced tone or from the pain. It took some maneuvering on his part, and a little improvising, before the managed to remove the arrow point from his leg, bringing out a surge of both relief and more pain. A few deep breaths and another apple gel later, Lloyd spoke out his mind.

'_Well… you were probably the first person in a long time to say anything remotely close to 'well done.' The rest of the team would usually be throwing all of my mistakes into my face right about now.' _Lloyd admitted dejectedly as he turned back to scavenging. _'Only Colette said anything similar at all… but she always lied and said whatever would make others happy, even if it wasn't the truth. And I sort of always looked forward for her praise after a fight, since no one else gave out any…'_

War could feel the sadness rolling off from the boy, making his earlier anger fade away. _**'Did your companions not acknowledge any of your actions?'**_

Lloyd stopped what he was doing and sat back for a moment. _'For the most part? Only when I did something to their convenience.' _The swordsman sighed before resuming his work. _'To most of them, I was just the village idiot who always landed into trouble anyway. The kid that got adopted by a dwarf and could barely do his homework on his own. The outcast… Stuck with the Chosen's group mostly out of just luck.'_

Mentally, War swore under his breath. Lloyd's answers, spoken so flatly and in clear honesty, were bringing up some of the less than pleasant memories from War's own childhood. Long before he had earned his name, War had been pick on endlessly for his appearance. Tanned skin, silver hair and golden eyes… if not for the lack of wings he would have easily passed off as an angel. Instead, he had been tormented endlessly by the rest of the Nephilim younglings. _'What happened to your wings hatching? Did heaven kick you out?'_

'_**Best not dwell in the past now.' **_The ancient Rider offered and he shook away his own nightmares. _**'Have you found anything of use?'**_

'_Enough things to put together a half decent traveling gear set. Some rations for the road, a few more gels and remedies… a large sum of money and a few pieces of jewelry. I'm guessing they recently robbed someone or stole these. Also this weird backpack that looks to be in good shape.'_ Lloyd recounted the objects before him before unlatching the clasp on the backpack to peer inside.

'_**Hmm, enough things to suffice for now. What are you doing?'**_

Lloyd ignored the elder Rider for a moment, after suddenly having pulled an axe out of the bag that should have by no means fit inside. A few moments later, he pulled out an animal hide, also much bigger that the bag.

"What the hell?" Lloyd called out after pulling out a random assortment of items of items, including an elaborate vase, a fancy set of tea cups and kettle among other things. He almost violently shoved back inside a cloth item as soon as he recognized the thing as being part of a woman's underwear. He did not need a mirror to know that his face was beet red.

Clearly stolen items, either from some well off family or from traveling merchants. He did not even want to think where that last frilly pink item had come from. It could have been Sheena's judging from the—NO! don't even go there.

'_**This could be… actually very convenient.' **_War commented, completely disregarding his charges' sudden shyness.

The once Horseman was not sure what exactly the bag was, but in principle it reminded him a big of the pocket-dimensions he and the rest of the Riders used. Death in particular had been known to abuse of his, carrying at any given point in time hundreds of pieces of armor and a various weapons of all sorts. The eldest had once claimed that he liked to collect things of interest, on and off, and personally destroyed anything that was deemed too dangerous in the hands of Creation. In reality however, the bastard was a pack rat, not that any of the other Riders would call out in his face. Still, War shoved that fond memory away and focused on the present.

'_**Put everything back inside and take whatever else could be sold or scrapped. This bag should allow us to carry a great number of things without being burdened by the weight.'**_

"Huh. Guess you are right about that." From the practical point of view, Lloyd had to agree. When he had traveled with Colette and the group, they would often have to decide on whether to keep or to take certain items they came across. More often than not, they were limited to whatever they could carry on their backs and still flight efficiently. It had been particularly annoying whenever they had been low on funds but had been forced to leave behind feathers, pelts, and tusks that could have easily been sold off in exchange for a good meal. "An endless bag of holding huh. Sweet!"

With newfound energy, Lloyd quickly packed away the random items he had pulled out, then went back to the bodies he had already searched and took other things that he had left behind such as their weapons and armor. War had advised against selling the likely stolen items so soon, less they get into trouble, but spare weapons that were produced in large batches where fair game. At the very least, a blacksmith would pay their weight for the iron they were made from.

'_**Take what you find useful. You are still tired and worn out. We should seek out the nearest town or village. A bed and a full night's rest will do you much better than sleeping under the stars. There must be some place nearby from which they stole all those goods.'**_

'_Yeah. I don't think I'd be able to get much rest with no one else to keep watch while I'm out cold. A warm bath and a night at an inn does sound lovely right about now.'_

A few hours later, Lloyd had managed to find his way out of the forest. Few things had attacked him since his encounter with the bandits, all of which he dispatched with ease. Still he remained cautions and walked on, Chaoseater comfortably strapped over his back as War had done for thousands, if not millions of years. The blade's presence alone seamed to deter most would be attackers.

By the time the sun was starting to set over the horizon, Lloyd had finally reached the seaside port town of Sybak.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: reviews and constructive criticism much appreciated! Don't freak out at Lloyd's newfound badassery, things will start to fall into place. *wink***

**Also, next chapter, we will see what's happening to the rest of the Regeneration Group… **

**So Merry (belated) Christmas and happy New Year!**


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